Dalloway´s Recovery Journal

[Desert Flower]

Hey Dalloway, just wanted to say I'm with you and I can feel your sadness too. No we did not choose or make this road did we. Just this week, I was feeling like it might be pointless myself. It's a part of me that thinks that. But I read something today in BlueSky's journal: It's okay if we don't believe right now it will get better. That's okay.

That brought me some acceptance and relief somehow. Maybe it will help you too. If not, please disregard.

Just wanted to wish you well.
 

[Chart]

Hey Dalloway... yeah, I feel your sadness. It's such an integral part of Cptsd. The hopelessness had me firmly in its grasp this week. It's ebbed a little, but once more the reminder just how much this sucks. I loved your image of lilies... please know it's ok to float. There is no hollywood muscled hero who beats back Cptsd. The best most of the world can do is deny and dissociate. You're not doing that. The sadness is recognition, what the child needs to crawl out from beneath the bed. Do whatever you need now, Dalloway. Take the emptiness and make it sympathy for the one you were who faced that infinite injustice. You can't change the past, but you are no longer alone, here, now, in the present. I see you and validate your feelings. Dive as deep as you need, but know: love awaits you at the surface when you re-emerge, love in the form of beautiful lilies floating on all that sadness.
 

[HannahOne]

Dalloway, I am sorry to hear the struggle you are in. It is a long winding road and we didn't choose it. What choices remain to us? I am with you in the struggle.

While so much doesn't make sense, your feelings do. Hopelessness makes sense. It can be part of letting go of what could have been. The numbness makes sense, it comes and goes as protection.

I see you in your questions, not hiding from the raw truth. Taking account of what happened in your life. Taking delivery of it. With courage and strength.

[SenseOrgan]

I'm sorry Dalloway. The heaviness in your heart is palpable. I'm intimately acquainted with a similar state of being [as far as I can know, off course]. No obvious path ahead, while still ending up in the same spot with every turn taken. And knowing there must be more to the story somewhere, somehow.

One way of framing this, is that the system requires attention to something that's vitally important. It's contained in the very challenging feelings themselves. I've struggled with deep "depression" for decades. I've believed many things about it throughout the years. Most rhymed with "wrong with me" and "beyond repair". I was right. But not in the way I thought. Not even close.

In the saga of me, there is a path. With this kind of matter, I've found, it leads deeper inward. Deeper into the pain itself. There's no wiser, more loving teacher out there. She's making herself known in the places that hurt. It's all you.

Rumi said it better than I ever could in The Guest House.

Much love

[Dalloway]

Today my philosophy teacher complimented me on a seminar paper I wrote about the importance of social work in modern world. I hated the text I sent him. I didn´t think it was good enough, I didn´t even think it was enough to pass the exam. But then he told me that this was a brilliant work and he liked it very much. At first, I was shocked and relieved that I passed the exam, and honestly, I couldn´t believe my ears. My strongest belief was that everything I do is at best average. I was happy for a moment, I could feel the joy spreading in my body, it made me smile. But then the bad stuff hit in.

The disbelief that it can be true was massive. There´s no way he´s right. There needs to be an explanation other than I really deserved the praise. He´s wrong. He´s exaggerating. The other works were so bad that mine looked better in that light. He doesn´t know what he´s talking about. I refused to let in the idea of simply being sufficient and good enough. I believe that every single person in this world is wrong about me when they attribute me some positive qualities. I´m an impostor and soon they´ll know that. And then I´ll be shamed and punished cause that´s what liars like me deserve. Or what´s even worse than punishment, I won´t live up to their expectations, and I´ll have to face the terrible fact that I let down everyone. Because I´m a disappointment, that´s what I am.

I took the train home and as I settled, tears welled up in my eyes. That´t when I understood that I was grieving for that little girl who never once got positive attention in her life, who was never told how precious she was and was always gaslit into believing that she´s a damaged good. I was uncomfortable hearing the compliments because I never got one from my own mother. And I felt heartbreak hearing this random teacher say those kind words to me because my mom never even got close to be this kind to me. I was crying for the child that was lied to about her not being good enough that led to her adult self questioning even the smallest things she does.

At this point, I´m equally heartbroken and helpless. It´s a lot to take in. It´s hard to comprehend how can someone destroy their own child´s self-esteem at the very core. And it´s even harder to understand how huge of an impact it had on my life. It´s literally everywhere. My very core was injured, the part that was supposed to make me a whole person with a clear sense of self. How could I function as a whole and healthy person when I was betrayed this bad? My whole world fell apart once upon a time when I was a little kid. Now the adult found those pieces but doesn´t know what to do with them.

[Chart]

Dalloway... Your post has brought tears to my eyes. I so very much understand that broken child. You ask what to do with the pieces? Pick them up. Put them together, no matter how broken, and hold them in your arms. Love those pieces. Love that little girl who never had a mother. She's alive and well and needs love. No one else can give it to her now, except you.

I've found my prefrontal cortex, rational and conscious, is good for very little, but does excel at one thing in particular. It's capable of stopping the voice of my past, my mother, my uselessness, my existence... I say NO to all that. It feels false, wrong, dumb, totally against what I am feeling. But I've learned... on this ONE thing, my prefrontal conscious mind is actually right.

Dalloway, your philosophy teacher is not wrong. Take that information and force it on yourself. That is the beginning. It takes a Loooooooooooong time to believe the message, the message that goes to the depths of our souls. But the New Word is that we are okay, we are good, we are lovable. We just never got what EVERY child deserves...

I go to playground and watch the children. The younger the better for me. I watch kids fall and see their mothers run to them and pick them up and talk to them and sooth them. I watch other kids hug each other. Sometimes they push, sometimes they laugh, but they are all beautiful and I rejoice in their joy at being. I watch how it was "supposed" to be for me, and often I cry like a madman. Like now. It hurts so much. It goes so deep. I make sense of it all through my tears. And slowly, ever so slowly I feel put back together, I feel more an more whole. I've still a long way to go. I'm still terrified. But day after day, week upon week, it gets easier. I start to believe what was inconceivable two years ago: I am loved. Now by many, and especially by me.

Love yourself Dalloway. You absolutely deserve it.
Sending love, lots of love, Chart
 

[dollyvee]

Dalloway, I feel like I was listening to a lot of Beatles at a particular time in my life where I think I felt along the lines of where you are now. I was unhappy in university, "being" (and failing at that --almost literally and metaphorically) who my FOO wanted me to be, working hard to pursue a degree that I didn't really feel connected to because I didn't know who I was. I had a hint of something that I wanted to do, but didn't feel "ready" to do it yet, and made the decision to leave that school for another, which caused an outrage with FOO. I didn't come out of that experience "perfect" and the image of everything I ever wanted, but it was a step along the way to uncovering all of this.

So, I feel for you, but also sometimes these "hopes" can be anchors that keep us tethered to a certain place. I had to accept that I didn't (and don't) have all the answers, and I didn't (don't) know how it is all going to work out, just that I was going to try and do it for myself and not what FOO wanted. Of course, there are/were many different strings to this anchor in feelings, patterns, etc but I kept trying to move forward and lessen its weight.

Sending you support,
dolly

[TheBigBlue]

That joy you felt was real, and it belongs to you - it wasn't a mistake or an illusion. I know it is hard, but this is one of those moments where you get to gently practice believing in yourself, even if only for a few seconds at a time.

[Hope67]

 

[HannahOne]

Dalloway, congratulations on writing a brilliant work! I'm so happy for you that you are able to articulate the importance of social work in the modern world. you must have worked hard and put a lot of thought into your paper.

It makes sense that you would feel imposter syndrome, like there must be a mistake. It's painful to feel the joy or take in that you did well, because it contrasts with your childhood where you couldn't feel that joy or feel that you did well. You bravely felt your emotions and confronted them directly. Congratulations on that too.

I relate to trying to understand. My mind wants to understand my parents, as if by understanding I can mentally undo what was done and fix it. But no amount of explanation will undo. We can only go forward, bringing the broken pieces with us and letting them see where we are now: in your case, you wrote a paper, the professor liked it. As those pieces see the you of today, they can begin to believe the past is over, and feel safer to feel the joy that is within you and know that your paper, and you, are brilliant, shining even in the dark.

[SenseOrgan]

Congratulations Dalloway. For receiving the compliment and really letting it land. This is very brave. You can only see the true face of the neglect/abuse by your own mother if you connect with the little one. I'm very sorry you are feeling the heartbreak now, but I am cheering you on for finding your way back to yourself. That compliment wouldn't have landed if you hadn't worked up to this point. It hurts to get what you didn't get as a child. That happened to me for the first time not long ago. The contrast is very painful. There isn't only pain on this side of what was dissociated. This is also where your strength and dignity are. Much respect for going there Dalloway!

Much love [especially to the little one]

[Dalloway]

I realized something the other day and it was one of those rare aha-moments that change a bit of who you are forever. I´ve been familiar with the IFS for a longer time now but it seems that I never fully embodied what does it mean to have different parts, functioning independently, with their own perception of time and space. Until a few days ago when I suddenly went into flashback-mode for a reason yet unknown to me. I was having a fine couple of days before, enjoying the small things that bring me joy and just being okay-ish with my life when this sudden wave of sadness and desperation hit. My thoughts were as always "nothing will ever get better" and "you will never get out of this" and just very strong emotions like sadness, grief and fear. So I let it out, cried to release the pressure which helped me a little bit but what was more interesting was that this time I didn´t feel this to be universal. While I was crying and thinking these catastrophizing thoughts, a different voice in me was also present and also crying but for a different reason. It was weeping because it was sorry and heartbroken that the other part cannot see how wonderful human being I was. And that´s when the realization hit. I asked myself who this voice belonged to. And why do I hear two different voices at the same time. Before that I thought that when I´m in a mood, it belongs to me as a whole. That if I feel depressed and think that nothing´s ever going to change, me as a whole system thinks that. But in this particular moment, I realized that I have parts that struggle, parts that are depressed and parts that are hopeful and believing in myself. And that these parts are more or less active based on what triggers them in the outside world or even inside as a result of and emotion or a memory that I can´t process.

This particular part I identified is a child, me at the age of eight or nine but it could be basically whichever age from my entire childhood. But it´s definitely a child, a little girl. And this girl is stuck in the past, in an endless circle of abuse and neglect. She feels trapped and this is absolutely a reality to her, exactly as it happened, as she experienced it. Every time something bad happened to her, she was utterly alone. Not once anyone came to her rescue, so she gradually came to understand that she is totally alone in this world, that no one cares enough to help her. The world has forgotten her, she is not important, she is worthless, unloved because unlovable. And this was her absolute every day reality for almost two decades. No wonder that she is trapped in this parallel universe, unable to find her way out of this labyrinth of scary memories. And every now and then when something reminds her of those memories, something triggering, she rings the bell and cries out so loud that I can´t ignore it even if I wanted to. This is her speaking: this frightened little girl who by the age of eight is absolutely convinced that she is absolutely alone in this whole world. The world has forgotten about her. She is just a grain of sand in the deserted world she only knows.

But knowing now that she is a part of me, I can talk to her and be with her as with something separate but also equal to me. I can take a step back to observe her situation better, but give her all my love because we are one. I can take her hand, hug her and tell her that I love her to the moon and back and she´ll understand me even without words. And that´s what I´m trying to do these days: just be with her so that she can feel that she´s not alone anymore. I´m here, not going anywhere, not letting anyone to hurt her again. I can be the parent she never had and also my own best friend with that notion. I don´t want to fix her. She is perfect the way she is and is here for a reason. She´s a messenger trying to show me that there´s something needing my attention if I´m willing to listen and watch. And I´m willing and committed to love myself as I would love my child from my flesh and blood. May I have what it takes.

[NarcKiddo]

I think it is a really huge thing when adult you is trusted enough that a part does not fully take over, and gives you a chance to see them properly. It's also really weird the first time it happens. I remember it happening one night with Little NK who was desperately crying but adult NK was present enough to start trying to comfort her. In my experience different parts have very different levels of trust, though. Teenage NK shows up very little these days but when she does she will brook no opposition and generally takes over completely if at all possible.

I'm glad you have now discovered a way to communicate with Little Dalloway and love her. I am sure you have what it takes. I've had horrible doubts about my ability to look after Little NK. But just as our brains won't let us process trauma until we are ready (though I wish they would let us be part of that decision because brains can pick really inconvenient times) I also think that our parts don't show up until we are up to the task.

[HannahOne]

Dalloway, just reading this now. What a profound experience. You have what it takes, and when you don't, you will find it. That's how motherhood works. And you are parenting yourself in this new way. I was so moved to read in more detail what it was like for you to see the depressed, child part of you and have that compassion for it. So that there was room for "all" of you in one moment, both the child part and the adult. Thank you so much for sharing. I am going to be thinking about this in the days ahead. It's so important to have this kind of attachment with ourselves, as we didn't have it with our parents. Yet even now we can do repair, even now we can bring the child of the past into the present, where all is well, where we are. We do not have to leave that child in the past pain. I'm so happy for you to have had this experience.